Gifted
by La.Tua.Cantante.83
Summary: A round of gift-giving shows Bella the truth of her life and the weight of her decisions. Some B & E Fluff. Voted 3rd place in the Twific Canon Fodder Contest. Rated T for innuendo.


**Disclaimer: **All characters from and references to Twilight and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer. No money is made from this writing, and no copyright infringement is intended. The plot for Gifted is mine.

**Summary:**A round of gift-giving shows Bella the truth of her life and the weight of her decisions. Some B & E Fluff. Voted 3rd place in the Twific Canon Fodder Contest. Rated T for innuendo.

To see some of the other entries in the Canon Fodder Challenge, please visit the C2 page:

http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/community/Canon_Fodder_Challenge/79719/

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**Gifted**

I listened to the stillness outside. The wind was blowing only slightly, dragging through the trees with a soft rustling. Beyond the wall, the outside was eerily calm. There was no other noise besides the rhythmic, unnecessary breathing beneath my ear. I concentrated on that, like a beacon to bring me home.

Edward and I were lying in bed, tangled amongst the cotton sheets. My head rested on his chest and he was softly stroking my arm with his fingertips, eliciting waves of electricity. Despite the fact that neither of us needed the rest, this was my favorite time of night. Satiated from lovemaking, still and serene, we'd lie together and simply _be._ I was content like this. It was moments like these that I knew I was where I belonged. If the rest of the world fell away, I could live for the rest of forever with _just_ this. I sighed happily.

Edward sighed in turn and looked over at the clock on the wall.

"Midnight," he whispered into my hair. "Do you remember what day it is?" Just the sound of his voice caused a stirring of pleasure through my body, sensations I was only just started to get a hold on. I turned my face up at him so I could look him in the eyes, propping my chin up on my hand.

"Hmm…Sunday?" I hedged. I knew very well what day it was, and why he was asking, but I wasn't interested in getting into all this now. Any such conversation would end my perfect peace.

"Bella." His tone was reproachful. He scrunched down to kiss me tenderly on the lips, before whispering against them. "Happy birthday."

"I no longer have birthdays, so you aren't allowed to wish me one." My tone was sour, and I pouted a little.

"You do _so_ have birthdays, you just don't age," he countered, stroking my arm again softly. "Besides, don't you think you're being a little selfish?"

I sat up quickly. "Selfish!? How _so_?" Despite the fact that I knew he was only teasing me, I bristled a little.

A resolute smile set on his lips. "Well, maybe _I _feel like celebrating. After all, it is the day that you were made for me." I rolled my eyes and scoffed at how trite that sounded.

He sighed, obviously unhappy with my indifferent attitude toward another year gone by. Just because I had finally gotten what I wanted, and was forever stuck at eighteen, didn't mean that I suddenly _liked _celebrating my birthday. Granted, I'd never grow old next to him as I'd always feared, but any kind of show was unnecessary. It was so silly, when I could never need anything more than what he'd already given me.

"I have presents for you," he said. He was no longer looking at me. Either I'd really hurt him, or he felt extremely guilty.

I made a disgusted face at the mention of _presents_, though I was really just teasing him at this point. I'd anticipated as much when he first mentioned it being my birthday. He furrowed his brow now that his attention had returned to me and set his features determinedly.

"Bella Cullen, as a member of this family, you are going to need to get used to getting gifts. I won't have you acting like a brat every time I want to give you something. You're my _wife_." He said it like the two were indivisible: wife equals gifts.

I sighed, rolling my eyes again. I was only slightly offended that he's called me a brat. If it weren't for the fact that he was looking so damn eager and _naked_, I would have been more than ready to resist him. I made a show of how obviously I was put out by all of this. With a knowing smirk at my obvious surrender, he reached over to the bedside table. I watched him lean away from me, marveling at the solid contours of his body. He turned back to me, and sat up a little, a long flat box in his hand.

I reached for it, but he tugged it quickly away before I could grasp it.

"Now, are you going to be a good girl?" Aha! I saw my opportunity to make him forget about the present nonsense. I leaned back into him, pushing him back down again with the weight of my body, and pressed my lips sensuously against his jaw line.

"Hmm. Are you sure you _want_ me to be a good girl?" I whispered seductively. I planted my hands on his chest and pressed my skin flush against his, trying my best to give him bedroom eyes.

He was not distracted. He didn't even answer, just laid there motionless, waiting patiently for me to accept the box still grasped in his left hand.

"Fine," I huffed, sitting up and grabbing the box roughly. Usually those types of distractions were very effective, but apparently whatever was in the box seemed more important to him at the moment. I heard him chuckle softly, as he leaned over and planted his lips gently against my temple.

"Another time, love."

I sat myself up and tucked the sheet around my chest, crossing my legs so that I was facing away from him, box in my lap. He sat up too, and watched me open my gift over my shoulder, pressing his body up against my bare back.

I lifted the lid carefully. Inside were three long rectangular pieces of paper. It brought back flashes of another time I had opened a gift similar to it.

"Plane tickets?" I looked back over my shoulder at him. A huge grin was on his face.

"Yep. For Christmas. To see your mom and Phil. You, me, and Renesmee." The look of triumph was dazzling. He knew what this would mean to me. I hadn't seen my mom since the wedding. We'd spoken over the phone, of course, but that wasn't the same. I missed her so much.

"Really!? Oh, Edward. Thank you! I love it." I leaned back into him as I looked over the tickets, in awe of his gift and his compassion.

"Are you telling me that you're _happy_ that I got you this gift?" he mocked. I glanced back into his smug expression to give him a sardonic look and turned back around without answering him. He chuckled. "Well, I figured we didn't get a real Christmas last year, and it's been so long since we've seen your mom...."

I suddenly noticed the destination on the tickets. "Wait, but not to Florida?" I was scrutinizing them now, confused. "_Wyoming_?"

"We're going to spend Christmas at a ski lodge. That way, if it's sunny, we can stay inside by the fire, blaming it on the cold air. Their tickets are already sent." As always, Edward seemed to have a handle on the situation. My mom hadn't seen me in person since the wedding, and since then I'd definitely gone through an overhaul physically. The pictures we'd sent would soften the blow, but wouldn't prevent it entirely. For one thing, I couldn't go out in the sunlight anymore without sparkling like a diamond. Florida would be a bit of a difficulty. I suddenly became more nervous. There were other things about me, too, that were very different. I was more beautiful than imaginable with my change. I wondered how we'd play that off. Also, I was a mother, and though our daughter had just turned one, she looked like she was nearly four or five. We had told my mother and Phil that we'd adopted her, and that she had a genetic disorder that aged her—I'd grizzled at that, upset to say that anything was wrong with my perfect baby, but Edward assured me that it would be easier that way. Regardless, it wasn't just her age that worried me, but her mental capacities too. She was as gifted as her father.

Edward sensed my tension, and kissed me softly on the shoulder.

"Don't worry. They'll be so happy to see my girls that they won't even notice." He said it proudly. It was sweet that he was trying to make me feel better, but I didn't think he was right.

"Wait. You said _presents_. As in, more than one." I narrowed my eyes at him.

He smiled happily and pulled out another box, this one a perfect cube.

"This one isn't really for _your_ birthday. It's for Renesmee's."

"Shouldn't you give it to her then?" My tone was curt and he laughed.

"No, silly, it's for you. In _commemoration_ of her birthday." I rolled my eyes again. Of all the ridiculous things. If it weren't for the fact that this made him so happy, I would have refused to open anything at all.

I pulled the top off the box, surprised that the gift didn't seem to fill it entirely. Inside was a small velvet pouch. I took it out and stared incredulously over my shoulder at him.

"Jewelry, Edward? Really?"

"Shh. Just open it." I did as he told, though I couldn't imagine what would cause him to buy me jewelry, of all things. I slipped the contents of the pouch into my palm, and it landed in a shiny silver clump. I recognized two of the baubles that were hanging off the shiny metal: one was the perfectly-carved, russet wolf, the other was a breathtaking diamond heart. I hadn't even realized they were missing from my jewelry box, but they now hung on a new expensive-looking silver chain. In addition to those was a small circular charm. It was an abstract representation of a man and woman and small child huddled together, their faceless forms encircling each other in embrace. I held it up and turned it over in my fingers. It made my breath catch in my throat.

"Thank you," I whispered appreciatively, and I really meant it. Three parts of my life, hung on a single strand.

"That's not all," he said. I looked into the bottom of the box. Inside was a CD jewel case. There were no markings on it. I looked at him questioningly. Before I could ask anything, he'd already snatched it out of my hand and was popping it into the disc changer. The music was lovely, soft and serene. I'd never heard it before, but I knew what it was. Full of spirit and strong, yet delicate and pure. It was _her_ lullaby.

"I had no idea you were working on anything else." My voice was full of the emotion that I was feeling: wonder at his talent, joy for our daughter, and overwhelming appreciation for what I'd been given in this life of mine. He came back to sit behind me again.

"I know," he whispered, kissing my temple. I leaned into him and he wrapped his arm around me protectively, enclosing me in the only cage I'd readily accept. I closed my eyes and melted into him, and we silently listened to the sweet sounds of Edwards love for her—the way _he _saw her. It ended, and a new song started, though this one I'd heard. He sighed and straightened.

"Okay, one last one!"

"Edward!" I admonished. He was already reaching for another gift, ignoring my complaints. I shifted around so that I was facing him.

"Please?" He looked deeply into my eyes and I felt my annoyance slipping away. "This one isn't for your birthday either. It's for our anniversary, and since you wouldn't let me get you anything _then_, and you're being _so_ gracious now, you get it now." I raised my eyebrows. His tone turned serious. "You can't expect me to do nothing for our first anniversary, Bella."

I sighed, extending my hands in acquiesce. It was wrapped in plain white paper. It was heavy in my hand, and gave a little as I held it. It was obviously a book of some kind. I opened it and revealed a worn, floppy leather manuscript. There was no writing on the cover, only a long leather cord wrapped tightly around it to keep its pages together.

"What is it?" I looked up at him.

His eyes were smoldering at me as he studied me.

"It's my journal." He let that sink in, as I realized exactly what I was holding, the import of this seemingly inconsequential item. "From the last year and a half. I figured that if you ever doubted how much I need you—exactly how much I _love_ you—this might be a pretty good reminder."

The weight of it suddenly became more pronounced, and I scooted to face him. The profundity of his gift knocked the proverbial wind out of me. I stared at it, reveling in what he'd just given me. This was Edward, his very soul. I already knew his soul existed—I was sure of that fact. His soul was tethered to mine, and I possessed his as surely as he possessed mine. But this was the physical proof of it, words from his beautiful mind. Words that, no doubt, would show me the full extent of his love for me and Renesmee.

"Oh, god, Edward. I… don't know what to say. It's…" I really_ didn't_ know what to say to him that could convey what I was feeling. "Wait. _A year and a half_? So that means…" He caught my chin with his hand and tilted it up so that were looking into each others eyes.

"It means that there might be some things in there that are hard for you to read through—things that were hard for me to _write_—but I _want_ you to know. I _need_ you to know."

A year and a half ago I was still wresting with the love of two men, both of whom I too loved. It had not been the same kind of love, of course, because only one of them was _meant_ for me, but at the time, he'd not truly known what I would do. The writing in that journal would be passionate and truthful about our love, but fearful and lonely and sorrowful, too. I couldn't imagine what I would find in those pages.

"So, this includes before. I mean, before you knew I'd pick you?"

"Yes." I saw momentary pain wash over his face, but it was gone in an instant. I inched closer to him, and put both my hands on his face, gently stroking his cheek with my thumbs.

"Thank you," I whispered. "Do you want me to read it alone?"

He chuckled then. "No. Actually, I'd rather be with you. I'm interested." He studied me, lilting his head to the side. "Plus, think of all the _fun_ we could have when you get to the _good_ parts." He raised his eyebrows and smiled seductively. Then he softened, nonchalantly. "But that's up to you. It's yours now. You do with it what you will."

I studied him for a long moment. Then I leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek. He smiled at me, and I saw a bit of twinkle in his amber eyes.

"You like them?" He whispered, attempting to keep his voice even, but I could see how elated this made him. I sighed, contented.

"I _love_ them," I told him sincerely. "_Almost_ as much as I love you." I clutched my gifts to my chest and leaned over to gently press my lips on his. He smiled and sighed.

"So you are _glad_ that I got you presents?" His smile became sneaky, and he raised his eyebrows, placing another quick innocent, feather-light kiss on my lips.

"Yes," I said warily.

"And you are appreciative?" Another delicate peck.

"Yes."

He moved over me, and I quickly maneuvered to accommodate him, lying on my back, my head on the pillows. I carefully set the things he'd given me on the bedside table without taking my eyes off of him. He placed his hands on either side of my head and positioned himself over me. From that position I had a glorious view of him. He balanced himself so that our noses were only an inch from each other, which he then bent down to nuzzle together. I felt him press himself along my whole length, our bare skin connecting at every possible place. When he spoke his breath tickled my ear.

"Then maybe you should thank me properly," he growled, "You know, try to distract me again?"

I hummed as he moved over me, kissing me, tasting me. _Loving_ me. And I agreed that I was _very _grateful, thus successfully ending my present-opening time.

The months seemed to go by so fast, and before I knew it we were packing for our trip to Wyoming. Alice and I were in her bedroom, suitcases laid out on the floor. I sighed.

"You know, I'm happy to be able to help pack this time. At least I know where we are going." I smiled at my favorite sister, who returned it with her usual exuberance.

"I'm still amazed he actually _told_ you where you were going, and I'm the _psychic_. You know how he loves the element of surprise. So theatrical always!" She scoffed at Edwards constant overreactions. I had to smile to myself. He wasn't the only one. I think it ran in the family.

"I don't think he thought my mom would be able to keep it a secret, and he's probably right. She's been elated for months." I laughed at the memory of my mother's screaming into the phone when she'd received the tickets. Edward had made sure she'd received them _after_ my birthday. She jabbered a hundred miles a minute to me while I listened silently about how excited she was. Plus, what she'd pack, what the lodge was probably like, if they had a spa, how much money they'd need for the extras. I was pretty sure Edward wouldn't let them pay for anything, though. He was benevolent that way. Mostly, she was excited to see all of us. Especially Renesmee.

My stomach twisted suddenly at the thought. It wasn't that they wouldn't love her, because I knew instantly that they would. She was irresistible. But I wondered if they'd notice just how big she'd gotten since the last time I'd sent pictures; just how adult-like her little mind was; how smart she was. And how she seemed to be from another world entirely, a world of mystery, magic, and legends. Because she was.

Alice noticed my distraction. "Bella, it will be _fine_. I've seen it. Everything will be great! Try to enjoy yourself."

I nodded, still distracted. "Maybe I should go over it with her one more time, remind her to be careful?" Alice rolled her eyes.

"I think she understands. You've only been over it about a _million_ times." She continued to pack the things I'd laid out for Edward, Nessie, and myself, sneering as she picked up a pair of worn sweatpants. "You _aren't_ taking these."

I snatched them back out of her hands and shoved them into the bottom of my suitcase. She shook her head. "It's a ski lodge, Alice. There's going to be no occasion to look like a runway model."

I left the room, sick of packing. I regretting not just letting Alice do it.

"Bella," she shouted after me, "It's _always _an occassion to look like a runway model."

Downstairs, Edward was sitting at the table with Renesmee, diligently going over their French lesson for the day. I stood at the foot of the staircase, watching them. She was already so good, he hardly had to coax her through the lesson anymore. She was nearly fluent. She was _one_.

Edward said something French-ish and they both turned to me. Renesmee giggled joyously. I narrowed my eyes at them.

"Okay, what did he say now?" They were constantly jabbering so that I couldn't understand. It was mildly frustrating. I made a mental note to use some of my vampire brain to learn French. She got up from her seat and came over to me, wrapping herself around my legs.

"Daddy says that Aunt Alice must be getting the better of you, packing upstairs. You look '_ébouriffé_'—disheveled, Momma," she clarified for me. I laughed at the sounds coming out of her little mouth, so precise and articulate. She sounded like Edward. She used big words. She didn't sound like a little girl, and she _really_ didn't sound like a baby. Another wave of fear shot through me.

I bent down to kiss the top of her head. "Well, he's right. I've given up." She laughed, and looked to Edward, who was still seated at the table, watching us. He nodded and she took off upstairs.

"What's that all about?" I asked. He laughed, coming to my side.

"She wanted to know if I'd excuse her from the lesson. She wants to help pack. She thinks she can handle Alice better than you can."

I rolled my eyes. "She's probably right."

He pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

"Are you happy to be going?"

"I am. I can't wait to see my mom and Phil."

But you're nervous?" He knew that I'd been worrying about it since opening the tickets three months ago. He gauged my reaction, pulling me tighter. "You don't have to be, Bella."

"My mom's just so attentive to the little things. She'll notice how much Nessie looks like you. She'll see how intuitive she is—how intelligent." I groaned into his chest. He surprised me by laughing.

"She will be so head over heals for her, Bella, it won't matter. Just like your dad with her, it won't matter."

He was right. My father had accepted Renesmee as is, without question. She was different, special, but still perfect. He loved her from the first moment. I looked up into his eyes.

"And me? What about me? She's my _mom. _I think she'll notice the change." He chuckled.

"So, marriage has been good to you. It agrees with you," he said, kissing my forehead. I sighed. I could hear the bliss in his voice at that very true fact. He tilted my face up to his. "Please? Just try to enjoy yourself." I nodded, trying to appease him.

"Okay, I'll try."

"Besides," he whispered sexily in my ear as he bent down to kiss my neck, "rolling around in the snow with you is going to be _really_ fun. Well worth any heartache." I raised my eyebrows at him. At least I had something to look forward too.

The lodge was every bit as luxurious as even the ritziest five-star hotel, and Edward had spared no expense. Our suite was like our own little home, complete with two stories and a kitchen. There were three bedrooms, one on the first floor on the east side of the suite, and two on the second floor to the west. The suite was even complete with a huge Christmas tree decorated in whites and blues. My mom and Phil had suggested we take the larger room, despite Edwards's protests, because Edward had paid for everything. He finally agreed, forfeiting gracefully before it came down to an all out battle. It wasn't much larger anyway. Each of the rooms was equally lavish. We didn't really _need _the bedroom, but the bed would probably come in pretty handy. Later.

My mom was so excited to see us she barely noticed my new look until later that day. Even then, Edward had been right: she'd chalked it up to our lack of contact and my "maturing into womanhood." I was thankful at that, though she eyed me suspiciously after our hug and told me to put on a sweater. I heard Edward chuckle softly under his breath.

They loved Renesmee from the moment they laid eyes on her. I was still nervous, as my mother and Phil embraced her lovingly, but Edward's gentle hand on my back was reassuring.

"See?' he whispered in my ear. "She's doing perfectly. She's irresistible." I nodded, relaxing just a little.

I had to admit that she _was_ being a good girl. I had reminded her of it several times on the plane, to the point that she rolled her eyes like a sullen teenager and started listening to her mp3 player from the Christmas before. But she knew her place in this world. Even as a newborn, she had enough restraint.

There was one thing that remained to cause me worry, and when my mom bent down cautiously to get a better look at her, everything became apparent: My looks may have evaded my mom's suspicions, but Renesmee's didn't. She saw the same thing that Charlie saw when he first laid eyes on her. She had Edward's perfect face, his lovely reddish-brown hair, and _my_ large chocolate eyes. It wasn't until she looked deeply into Renesmee's pretty eyes that she shot me back a look of terror.

"Bella?" It came out as a question as her voice shook with confusion. She looked back and forth between the three of us, over and over. "What is going on?! What…"

I didn't know what to say. How could I tell my mother that I'd given up my mortality to be a vampire, and that the darling creature in front of her was the result of the love that my vampire husband and I shared? Doing so would put their lives in grave danger. So, I just stood there.

"Renee, there are things about us—my family—that we can't tell you. Just know that Bella is perfectly safe and loved beyond comprehension." Edward was always my hero.

My mother stared at Edward incredulously for a moment, then turned to me. I confirmed what he'd said by nodding quickly.

"It's true, mom. I'm so sorry that I can't tell you all the details. They are very complicated, but Edward is right. I'm perfectly safe and…and _happy_. _So_ happy." I looked at Edward, and he was smiling at me with my favorite smile. I took a deep breath. "And this is _our_ daughter. One-hundred percent."

My eyes were closed, waiting for the assault, but nothing came. When I finally opened my eyes, my mother was studying me, a strange look on her face.

"You're sure?" I could see the worry in her eyes.

I nodded emphatically. "No question."

She sighed, and then… _smiled_. It surprised me so much that I had to lean into Edward. She looked back at Renesmee, who was watching her expectantly. Then she pulled Nessie into a warm embrace. There were tears welling over cheeks now. Leave it to my mother to just accept the crazy.

Renesmee hugged her back lovingly. The exchange was all she seemed to need to accept her as she was, to accept our whole little family as it was. It was easier than I could have ever imagined. And I wondered if Renesmee had another gift all together.

The remainder of the trip was proving to be a completely enjoyable experience with the worst of my worries behind us. I was sure that my mother wouldn't let the topic drop completely, but I could relax. She had _just_ enough information. Enough for Renee.

Even in my vampire life, I didn't really see myself enjoying the act of skiing, so most of my time was spent inside. Plus, seeing me maneuver gracefully down a slope on skis was probably more than my mom could handle. I played it off like I didn't want to kill any of the other skiers with my clumsiness. I saw the knowing smile from Edward at my lie. My mom, always the cold-weather grump, spent a good deal of time with me inside the lodge and the clubhouse. It was actually really nice.

Edward and Phil were bonding over the sport. It was funny to watch Phil's reaction the first time he'd seen Edward ski, first shock then utter enthusiasm. Edward skiing was like water over glass, his movements effortless and graceful—beautiful. From that moment, they spent a good deal of time on the slopes together. The camaraderie was unexpected, but gave me a secret kind of joy.

That morning they'd decided to take Renesmee out and teach her how to ski. I was sure it wouldn't take her long to catch on, and warned her to humor Phil as much as she was able. It would be difficult for her to restrain herself, already a gifted athlete.

I was sitting by the fire, reading. It was not like I needed the fire and the blanket wrapped around my legs while I read my book, but it felt comforting, not because of the warmth but because of the familiarity of it. It was so human.

My mom came to sit down beside me, and handed me a mug of hot chocolate. I held it, but didn't drink. I wasn't sure if I could choke it down convincingly enough.

"I miss you, Bella." She smiled, though I could see the sadness etched on her face.

"I miss you, too, mom. I'm sorry we haven't been able to connect in so long."

"I've missed a lot." I instantly felt guilty. It's not what I'd wanted from this trip.

"I'm sorry," I told her softly. Neither one of us spoke for a long time. She sipped her drink, staring ahead into nothing. She suddenly turned to me.

"Bella, would you tell me if something was wrong? I mean, would you tell me if you were in trouble? If everything was not as… _good_ as you say it is?" I was having a hard time understanding, so she continued quickly. "You're sure you are happy? He's not… _forcing_ you to stay or anything is he?" It took me a moment to understand what she was getting at. My eyes widened, and then I laughed out loud.

"Of _course_ I'm happy! I couldn't ask for more." I watched as she contemplated what I had said and her face softened. I narrowed my eyes at her. "What brought this on?"

She sighed, looking a little nervous. "Well, I wonder if this thing that you can't tell me is something bad. Like brainwashing, or a cult, or the mob, or something like that." She looked up at me through her eyelashes and she reminded me of a misbehaving puppy. I couldn't help but laugh again.

"No, mom. It's nothing like that. The Cullens are the most wonderful, genuine, _good_ people I've ever met. You've met them. I _love_ them, and I'm one of them because I _want_ to be."

She laughed with me then, obviously remembering her contact with them through our wedding. She absolutely loved Esme and Alice.

"Sorry," she said, embarrassed. "It's just that, well, there's so much I didn't know."

I took her hand. "You know now." She nodded, happy to finally be included. Sort of.

"I also wish you'd visit more, especially now that Renesmee's around."

I nodded. "We will."

"I don't know why I was acting so silly. I can tell that you're happy and well taken care of."

"I am," I agreed wholeheartedly. "Though, you have a right to ask. I guess I'm glad that you asked. I know you've been suspicious in the past about Edward and me." My mother sighed squeezing my hand.

"No, that's not true. I wouldn't call it suspicion as much as I would…a lack of understanding. Familiarity, maybe? I just didn't know that love could be so profound as with you and Edward. It kind of scared me."

"What are you talking about? You have Phil." I knew that she loved him like crazy.

"Yeah, but it's not the same. I do love him and he loves me and that's enough for us. But when Edward looks at you, and you at him, it's like…like the earth is moving for the two of you. Like your sole purpose for existing is to be for him, and him for you. Otherworldly kind of thing."

I nodded. I'd _told_ him she was too perceptive.

"I can't deny that," I said quietly. She studied me carefully.

"I'm happy you found him, Bella. It's made you a better person, and I didn't think that was even possible."

The rest of the afternoon was not nearly as exciting. We talked about Renesmee and the rest of the Cullens, catching up on the events since our wedding. I edited _greatly_. When Phil, Edward, and Renesmee came back, my mom was napping. Phil went to join her.

Renesmee played on the floor with the dolls Alice had gotten her for Christmas—and the cars Rose had—while Edward and I reclined on the couch, watching a movie.

"Did you have fun?" I asked, running my fingers through the back of his hair.

He smiled down at me, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah, we did. Renesmee was having the hardest time keeping her skiing in check. I had to send Phil up to the clubhouse for a new ski pole just so I could let her do a couple of runs freely." He chuckled and Renesmee laughed at the memory.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "New ski pole?"

"Don't ask. How was your morning?" Now it was my turn to laugh.

"My mom thinks you and the rest of the Cullens are a cult trying to brainwash me. Well, at least she _did_." He smiled and nodded.

"I know." I looked at him with a shocked expression. I don't know why I was surprised that he knew that. I'm sure it's the first thing that popped into her head. His face became mock serious. 

"And, you set her straight? I mean, as far as you know, we _could_ be brainwashing you." A smile turned up at the corner of his mouth, and I punched him playfully, careful not to hit too hard.

"Well, if you are, I am happy to live in hazy ignorance." I caught his lips with mine, holding them for a long time. We broke away, and he pulled me into him, kissing my forehead.

Our daughter played on the floor in front of us as contented sighs left both of us at the same time. I didn't know how anything could be more perfect than that moment.

That night, lying against the smoothness of Edward's chest, I thought back to all those months ago, when he'd first given me the tickets. Then, I'd been so afraid that this trip would be disastrous. Now, I was only elated.

My mother had accepted my life—my husband, my daughter, _me_—without question. There was no doubt in her mind that this was good for me. In her eyes, this was what was right.

And, as I always knew, she was very perceptive.

Tomorrow morning was Christmas Day. I was sad that I wouldn't be able to spend it with Charlie, and I already missed the Cullens, despite the fact that we'd only been gone a few days. But I knew that this part of my life was something that I'd needed to tie up for a long time. Renee—my mother, the woman who'd carried me, and birthed me, who'd grown with me—was someday going to be gone. I needed to make the memories with her while I could.

A feeling so intense washed over me, and I clung to Edward desperately, gasping for unneeded breath. His arms tightened around me, though he didn't ask me what was going on, and he held me for a long time.

When I was able to move again, I sighed in my sudden melancholy and peeled myself off of my husband reluctantly. He followed my movements with a perplexed stare, carefully watching me, waiting for me to answer his unspoken questions. I reached over him to the side of the bed, retrieving the worn leather book that had since become the thing that grounded me.

As the days moved on, I needed it more and more. He'd _known—_when he'd given it to me, he'd _known_ that I would need it. Despite the fact that I loved him and our daughter with all my heart and soul, I was sometimes reminded of the finality of the life I'd chosen. It would wash over me in waves, suddenly and unexpectedly, and I would feel it like a pressure in my chest, heavy and menacing. It would haunt me, this sad knowledge that I would leave these important humans behind—that I would lose them—until I saw the light in my Edward's eyes and his joy from our love, or our beautiful girl, as she danced across the living room.

Or I read the journal. These things healed me.

I sat up shyly, and tucked my hair behind my ears as I unwound the book. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms round my middle, gently kissing my shoulder. I closed my eyes and breathed him in—his scent, and his presence, and the smell of the book that he spent so long pouring over. Its existence had given me joy, sadness, and shown me the overwhelming love that he'd had for me. Even when he had no idea that I would choose him.

I opened up to a page near the front half of the journal. Though I found so much comfort in it, I'd only managed to make it through a small portion of the entries. That first part was the hardest, all of the days somber and full of doubt. He'd not known that my mind had been made up long before, over a _year and a half_ before these entries, in my fifth period Biology lab.

My marble hands shook as I fingered the worn pages, darkened on the edges from continual handling, and I found the piece of his mind that I'd been holding out to read, the one I needed now, when I felt the fear and sadness the greatest.

_**June 20, 2006**_

_Today is my birthday. Bella knows this, though I know it will pass without any fanfare or celebration. She wouldn't have it any other way. To my Bella, birthdays are not a cause for excitement or joy. They are a reminder of the time that she and I spent those excruciating months apart, when our worlds nearly ended—apart, but still somehow together—at the same time._

_Bella is sleeping. Her legs are tangled in the lavender sheets. They are all twisted around her, wrapping her up like a cocoon. It is because she has been dreaming, murmuring about the pictures that dance through her head. She not only talks, quite vividly, in her sleep, but she moves. _

_Sometimes I have to get up from her, leave her lying there, because it is too much for me to bear. Sometimes, I want her so badly because of her dreams, that I must remove her arms from around my waist and walk away to the other side of the room. She is warm and soft, and the soft pants that escape from her mouth, coupled with her utterances of my name, make it nearly unbearable. I _burn_ for her, but it is not her blood that calls to me._

_Sometimes, I barely believe that she wants me._

_I am smiling, as she complains in her hushed, sleepy murmur, about yet another celebration, one that now seems like it is within my grasp. My sister's name tumbles from her lips, and I can see through the darkness that her brow is furrowed and her bottom lip has jut out in an adorable pout. I wonder what dream-Alice has done to deserve such a reaction. Too many guests? A six-tiered cake? Or an orchestra? I can only imagine, of course, since her mind is still my greatest puzzle._

_It's the one I will try to solve for the rest of eternity._

_That thought has nearly sent me reeling, once again. This event is one that I've hardly allowed myself to hope for since the moment I met her. I'd dreamed of it, coveted it, even _prayed_ for it. But I never expected that someone as good as her could ever be my wife._

_Another shock._

_Two weeks ago, she made the decision. Alice, Emmett, Carlisle—all of them—have assured me over and over that it was never a real decision, that she'd always known. But I cannot help but wonder what would cause her to choose me. I will spend the rest of forever proving myself worthy of her love and her hand, though it will never be enough. It will _never_ be enough. I hope she forgives me, should she ever see the truth of that._

_Today is my birthday. It will be like any other day, I'm sure. And later tonight, when we are once again alone in the confines of her bedroom, with her father asleep unknowingly down the hall, she will wish me a happy birthday, and give me something that she's picked out, something she thinks wholly unworthy of me._

_And later, she will feel bad that it is simply not enough. And perhaps she'll dream about it, tossing and turning, whispering her apologies in the night._

_But she does not understand that none of that matters to me. She has already given me the greatest thing I could ever ask for. She has given me her heart, and her soul, and her future. She's given me her devotion and her promises, and soon, she will give her body to me too._

_I couldn't ask for more. I never could have imagined it._

_Today will pass like any other, but tomorrow will bring me one day closer to heaven. She's given me so much just by _being_, and wanting to be with _me_. She's made me whole._

His elegant script floated up to me like a prayer. My eyes could not have clouded with tears, though I felt they should. The corner of my eyes pinched where they had grown accustomed to doing so.

I felt him poignantly behind me, a physical reminder of what he'd written.

"I never want you to doubt—to regret," he whispered, the pain evident in his voice. He truly thought I would regret my decisions someday. I turned my body toward him and tilted his face up to mine. His eyes were sad.

"I never do. I never _will_," I told him, feeling the familiar weight lift from my chest. The words had never been so true. Despite what pain I might feel at the losses that I was sure to have throughout this life I'd chosen, _that_ was the purest truth. "_Never_, Edward."

I kissed him, long and deep. I wished I had some tangible proof—like his journal—to give him that would let him know it was the truth. As we sank down into the bed together, touching and kissing and needing. I hoped it would be enough.

When the sun rose, I'd get more gifts from him, I was sure—little tokens to remind me of his love for me. For this life.

But I knew I'd been already been given the greatest of gifts. Because of him, I was truly gifted.

.

.

.

**End Note: **Thank you for taking the time to read and who voted for me in the contest…even though I messed up Edward's birthday (I've since fixed it—it's June 20th, as written—but was submitted with June 30th as the date…guess I've been a _little_ too excited for Eclipse, huh?)

Anyway, it means the world to me to have been part of the fantastic contest. I'm so thankful!

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